


The Case of the Missing Hoodie

by thegreenery



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Cuddles, Fluff, Light Angst, Logan meditates, M/M, Sad Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sharing Clothes, Soft Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Soft Deceit Sanders, but like they're deffo gay for each other, just implied, more like stealing clothes, no obvious romantic ships, virgil's hoodie is gone, who took it?, ya boi cries and that's it, you'll see who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23312506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenery/pseuds/thegreenery
Summary: Virgil's hoodie is missing, and he's on a mission to find it.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 14
Kudos: 185





	The Case of the Missing Hoodie

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Deceit, Roman cries at one point but it isn't explained why, Virgil's freaking out just a little

Virgil ducks into Patton’s room, a frown pulling at his lips. He squints as he looks around the cluttered, sepia-toned space but doesn’t enter. Patton glances up from where he sits on his bed curled around a book. 

“Virge? Something wrong?”

Virgil only hums, leaning into the room a bit more, and Patton notices that he isn’t wearing his hoodie.

“Where’s your hoodie, kiddo?”

“Gone. Looking for it. Seen it?” Virgil’s words, clipped and harsh, betray the anxiety creeping up on him. Patton frowns and sits up. 

“Nope! I can help you look for it if you wa-“

“Nah, it’s ok. I’ll find it. Thanks, Pat.” And Virgil disappears, presumably off to search another Side’s room for his missing hoodie. Patton sighs and lays back down, trying not to worry about his dark strange son.

Virgil heads down the upstairs hallway towards the common room. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, the skin already dry and cracked from anxious biting. A figure blocks the stairs at the top of the landing, and Virgil clears his throat to get Remy’s attention.

Sleep turns, Starbucks cup balanced precariously between two fingers, and grins. “Virgil! Babes! So good to see you. I-“

“Hoodie. Seen it?” Virgil would normally feel bad about interrupting Remy, but he’s just so cold and exposed without his hoodie. He’d apologize later. 

Remy frowns and taps his chin thoughtfully with a finger. “Y’know, girl, I don’t think I have. Sorry! I can help you look if you wa-“

“No, it’s fine. I’ll find it. Bye, Rem.” Virgil slips between Remy and the wall and takes the stairs two at a time, leaving a bewildered but fond Remy behind him.

Purple and black plaid catches Virgil’s eye as he enters the common room. He opens his mouth to demand his hoodie back, but manages to stop his outburst as he realizes that the plaid is just a quilt currently wrapped around Logan’s shoulders as he meditates. Virgil sighs, the corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin, and he walks behind the couch as not to disturb Logic while he gets some much-needed relaxation. Logan probably doesn’t know where his hoodie is, anyway.

Virgil continues down the hallway, passing through the doorway that marks the halfway point between the Light and Dark sides of the mindscape. Ever since Thomas accepted Deceit, the doorway has remained open and allows any Side to walk through. Virgil suppresses a shudder as he crosses the threshold. It never gets easier.

Virgil enters the common room shivering just a little (the Dark side is slightly colder than the Light) and begins to lift blankets from the couch just in case his hoodie was accidentally transferred when relocating blankets after the Sides’ weekly movie night. Virgil’s search is interrupted by a cough, and he whirls around to see Deceit leaning against the doorway with an eyebrow raised. 

“Raccoon eyes.”

“Snake face.”

Virgil and Deceit share a smile, soft and new. Just as quickly as it appeared, Virgil’s smile fades and he casts his eyes to the wall just past Deceit’s head.

“Hoodie. Seen it?”

“Yes.” Deceit drawls. “I know exactly where it is.”

Virgil sighs, running his hands through his hair. “Damn.”

“I wouldn’t suggest checking the Imagination.” Deceit continues, studying his nails although his gloves cover them. “I didn’t see Roman acting suspicious earlier.”

The smile returns as Virgil walks back to the doorway, pausing at the border. “You don’t have to lie all the time, y’know.” There’s a small silence.

Then, a soft response. “I know.”

Virgil starts off towards the Imagination without another word.

The door to the Imagination is upstairs, next to Roman’s room, so Virgil retraces his steps. Past Logan (still meditating, his normally-stiff features relaxed and calm) up the stairs (where Remy is nowhere to be seen) past Patton’s room (where he now snores softly amidst his pillows and plushies and fairy lights) and down towards the middle of the upstairs hall. 

The door to the Imagination is large and imposing, though the small unicorn stickers stuck to the door by Roman during Thomas’ childhood offset the foreboding mood of the deep maroon paint. Virgil opens the door, cringing preemptively at the sound of creaking hinges that never comes. Hm. Roman must have finally fixed that. Virgil makes a mental note to thank him later.

Virgil steps inside the shadows of the Imagination, the darkness swirling and brightening to reveal a meadow. A setting sun rests low on the horizon, fluffy pink and orange clouds dotting the sky in a heavy but comforting blanket. Virgil glances around the meadow, but it doesn’t take him long to pinpoint the figure sitting in the center of a patch of multicolored wildflowers. 

The figure’s broad shoulders are covered in familiar dark fabric, and the hood of Virgil’s hoodie is pulled over Roman’s normally-immaculate hair. Virgil sighs. He approaches Roman, fully ready to tell him off for taking his clothes without asking, when his foot snaps a stick and the sound echoes through the meadow. Roman turns, and Virgil freezes.

The prince’s mascara runs down his face, carried by tears that flow unbidden. Roman hiccups a sob, seemingly unable to contain it. 

“Virgil! I’m so sorry I took your hoodie, I-“

Virgil holds up a hand. “Save it, Princey.” Anxiety sits next to Creativity in the wildflowers and spreads his arms wide. “Shut up and cuddle me.”

Roman doesn’t have to be told twice, and Virgil doesn’t miss his hoodie quite as much anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> The soft! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone on Discord who continually supports and (seems to) enjoy my writing. I love coming up with really random ideas and just sharing them with y'all. Love you guys so much!!
> 
> I also love all of you here on AO3!! We're really close to reaching 9k hits, which is something I never thought I would say. Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my works. It means so much to me.
> 
> As always, leave feedback in the comments, cowards!! <3
> 
> I have a Discord server!! Join to discuss my fics and hang out with me and my friends! https://discord.gg/zc3Kne6


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